The candles created a music that caused the shadows to dance. A finger pointed to a rickety chair. Harvey closed his coat, straightened his pants and sat. He sniffed, and said, “Your little den stinks.”

“How’d you find me?” The voice was ridden with disinterest.

“Wasn’t as easy as last time, but, you’re not as clever as you are fucked up,” Harvey replied, pulling out a smoke and sparking it up.

“The waitress, she gave me away.” Not a question.

“When I stumbled upon her staring at her feet even though they were on the other side of the room it made me think that it’s not the shenanigans of a normal fuck-up. It could only be the work of a special fuck-up, one like you,” Harvey said, taking another hit.

It nodded.

Harvey drew on his cigarette before letting free the smoke. He watched the freak through the rising blue tendrils. “Last time I took pity, this time...”

The thing cut him off. “This time no slap on the wrist.” It drew its legs up to its chest from its place in the corner.

Harvey nodded, and said, “Correct. This time I’m gonna do the job properly.” Harvey dropped the cigarette, leant forward and screwed it into the thick layer of dust on the floor.

The thing chuckled and then coughed.

Harvey knew why the sound was so odd. “Like a leech, gorged far past the point of satiation.”

The thing struck its bony chest and hacked up a quart’s worth of congealed blood and then laughed. “The overspill always ends up in my lungs. In '98 I forgot to purge and the blood scabbed.”

“That won’t happen again.” Harvey promised.

The thing ignored him and looked over to the stone coffin. “I sat with her for over a month after you’re father had slain her. I didn’t leave the mausoleum, not even to eat, imagine what I looked like then.”

Harvey looked over at long, cracked stone box, then back to the thing.

"Let's get this over with."

The thing managed another chuckle and another little cough as it spent the rest of the blood in its lungs. "I made you show yourself, you have no weapons. There is no way you can finish me. Not unless you've somehow earned a wooden leg and plan to dance upon my chest."

The thing laughed loud, and it laughed long.

Harvey shrugged and said, "You things are sly, so I need to be sharper, keener, and a little more thoughtful." He left the chair and headed over to the stone coffin. He ran a hand around the length of it before stopping. He looked over his shoulder. "You've become too comfortable with your skills and that's wrong, and it goes for any occupation.

"Please, entertain me, how do you plan on vanquishing me?"

Harvey turned around. His zipper was down, his penis was out and he had his dominant hand around it.

The thing cackled. "Hardly an apt weapon, though perhaps impressive to the ladies that enjoy a shallow ploughing."

Harvey strode forward and started to urinate in the direction of the thing. The first drop that touched brought forth a scream. The trickle a howl. The full flow a bestial shriek that threatened to crack the very stone around them.

His urine worked like the lash of a whip, stroking runs in the thing's skin, delving deep into the flesh. It cowered as it was wounded and wetted. "How?" Was its call.

Harvey pissed until he could piss no more. "Nobody said holy water needed to be carried within a vessel such as a flask, or a vial, did they?"

The thing grunted.

Harvey picked up the old chair and broke it. He grabbed one of the legs from the rubble and bore down upon the pitiful creature. "And now I have a stake. I knew the chair would be here. Do you know why I know? Because, like you I've sat on it before. I sat on it whilst my father purged this world of your mother. He cut her mother-fucking head clean off. Your turn." Harvey raised the stake and then crashed it down into the things chest. It hollered for a second and then gargled as its insides shuddered and faltered to a stop.

Harvey gave his penis a shake, only two though; his father had always said that anything more than two shakes can be construed as masturbation.

"Anything More Than Two"
Copyright: © 2010 Lee Hughes

Lee's writings can be found around most of the darkest haunts. You can find out more at


  1. Fantstic. Brilliant images. Quirky take on an old chestnut . Great first and last lines and the stuff in the middle is pretty damn good too. Great work.

  2. Top drawer Lee. That has got to be the most original take on the old "holy water" scenario. Well done!

  3. Mr. Hughes, This is masterful and intelligent and wonderfully wicked. I am a fan of yours till the bitter end, my friend. You have WOW'ed me with this one, and I am in enthralled with the seeming effortlessness of it. Go straight to the publisher with it. It's good.

  4. truly the work of an artist, this one has superb construction and a fitting end, inclusive of the sarcastic final reference, bravo sir, bravo.

  5. Excellent prose, especially the first sentence about candles creating music -- that creates such wonderful imagery and really sets the tone for the piece. Love how the vamp had to vomit up excess blood before it scabbed -- ha ha! gross! And the twist regarding the holy water was hysterical and incredibly clever. Loved it!

  6. No suave, well-coiffed fang for once, a smart weapon, snarky ending, all around fantastic, fantastic.

  7. Now THAT is a vampire story. The very first sentence lulled me in, and boom the story was over. Effortless, seamless, and quite gross.

    You rock, Lee Hughes.

  8. Cheers for all your kind comments, glad you all enjoyed it!

  9. It is a killer, Lee. Your writing is as smooth as it is sharp! Love the inclusion of the penis - something not expected and crafted skillfully along the lines of taste and style.

  10. As per usual after reading one of yours I'm chuckling too hard to think of anything erudite to add to the glowing comments already lauded upon you.
    Lee, you did it again.